


Frustration of the best kind

by eternalshiva



Series: Dragon Age: Alternate Universe (The Way you Make Me Feel) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalshiva/pseuds/eternalshiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by speedgriffon - part of her The Way you Make Me Feel Universe.</p><p>Evelyn is feeling the heat in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Problems.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speedgriffon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/gifts).



Evelyn bit her lip, frowning at the sensation between her legs – _damn it_.

She walked into the kitchen and put her mug down onto the counter, her fingers lingering there as though they could lift the memories they witnessed. She thought about the first time they kiss – here, in this spot. _Here,_ where he sent her head reeling with a _simple kiss_ and where she was struck with uncanny clarity of her emotions at that moment. It had tipped her over the edge and she couldn’t help but kiss him again just to make sure.

And then… _that_ night.

Her cheeks warmed at the thought, her mind wandered on the ghostly sensations of him around her… _in_ her. The feel of his lips on her neck, his tongue in her mouth and the delightful sounds he moaned into her ear. She shivered, recalling the pleasure of his fingers brushing against her hips, the way the palm of his hands kneed against her breasts and _Maker_ … the soft feeling of his tongue on her sex, suckling, nipping...

“Couscous, did you hear about what Cullen did at the cake shop?” Alistair burst through her fantasy, loud noises startling her to reality as he put the grocery bags onto the counter behind her. She blushed, trying to keep her hands busy as she put the cup into the sink, quickly, not so very quietly.

“N-No, what happened?” She stammered strangely and Alistair took too long to answer.

“Are you alright?” He sounded worried – of _course_ he did.

“I’m fine.” She looked over her shoulder and knew she had made a mistake, her eyes met his and all she could see was the way he’d looked at her that night. Eyes filled with lust, how his lips parted when he whispered her name like a prayer.

“You don’t _look_ fine, you look… flustered.” He took a step towards her, and she resisted the urge to step back. They were building trust again, backing up would alarm him and she didn’t want that, far from it – she wanted him closer for all the _right_ reasons.

“I’m just… distracted.” She assured him.

His eyes were on her mouth – she felt strange under his gaze. A _good_ strange. She bit her lip again, her eyes focused on his jaw and the sharp edge of it and admired the way it cut across the skin. She couldn’t help recalling the way muscle flexed as he moaned her name a few months ago– the image is seared into her brain and she swallowed hard. She fidgeted when he reached for her.

“What’s got you so… _distracted_?” He asked. Simple question – terrible consequences.

Evelyn twisted her fingers together, her heart racing under her ribs while her sex tingled _annoyingly_. Her eyes traveled the length of his neck, his scent was everywhere, and nowhere. It irritated her and pleased her at the same time. Memories fluttered to another moment - his naked skin. The shape of his ass under her finger tips and the way it flexed under her heels when he _fucked_ her in her bed surrounded by a raging storm.

 _No, no_. She reprimanded herself as the need to find herself wrapped around him burned deep in her gut. She wanted to be taken again and again. He didn’t _fuck_ her, Alistair… _made love_ to her and that… That was the difference that scared her into pushing him away.

“Uhm, well, I can’t really say.” She felt the blush crawl up her neck and she found it too hot in the kitchen. Her lips were sore from all her nibbling and she’s sure he’s noticed her fidgeting, the way her mouth parted, the flush of her skin.

“Ah, one of _those_ distraction.” Alistair sighed wistfully, thinking of something she’s sure isn’t them fucking on the dining room table.

Because _she_ is.

Thinking that.

Two bodies mingled tightly together, sweat dripping down the length of his spine – her nails digging hard into his skin until he moaned, until he whined of the pain it caused. She tried to ignore the imaginary sound of their flesh slapping against each other. Names spoken with their breathless voices, whispers that are hoarse with need.

She fidgeted, crossed her legs and tried not to react when her sex pulsed, when it warmed and became slippery.

“Uh, yeah – one of those.” She tried to smile but she’s sure it’s _not working_ because he raised a brow, watching her. She takes a deep calming breath that only makes things worst. She wants to touch him, she wants to take his length into her mouth and hear him call her name with that _tone_ when he’s about to cum.

“Your eyes, Couscous.” He stated, remarked even. “They’re a deeper shade of green.” He smirked – he knows, he’s seen the shade before while she was withering under him, coming with his name on her lips. He leaned in close and said nothing, just close enough to let the heat of his skin register against her own and it takes everything in her not to reach out and _kiss_ him, _take_ him. He whispers something.

“I still think about it, too.”

She gasped, her eyes meeting his and she sees the shade of amber darken with arousal but he says nothing else. He stepped away, grabbing something off the counter before leaving her to her own devices in the kitchen.

Evelyn groaned, _Maker_. She squeezed her thighs together and her sex throbbed, pulsed with need – her skin was still sensitive to Alistair’s presence and she wanted to chase after him, compromise for another night – no strings attached but she knows better than that.

It’s all in, or nothing, when it comes to Alistair.

She goes into her room instead, seeking relief.


	2. Consquences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read speedgriffon's Your Move (link Inside) before tackling this chapter, as it is a continuation.
> 
> Alistair finds himself with a decision to make, Friends, or friends with Benefits? (art inside by Froschkuss)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow up to Speedgriffon's YOUR MOVE so please read that before reading this one.

Please read this before reading this chapter: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/4645110>

 

* * *

 

 

Things were… _awkward_ to say the least, the next morning. Well, in his mind at least.

Alistair wasn’t the least bit apologetic for his _own_ personal actions in his own room; he did feel badly that he took advantage of Evelyn’s arousal in his fantasy. Even though she didn’t really _know_ , not that he could tell.

_Maybe._

Her sudden appearance in his room at that crucial point made him suspicious but his embarrassment far outweighed asking her about it. He was already toeing a line that was dangerous. Their tension was almost tangible the last few days and he didn’t help at all last night.

“Couscous-“ He started, her back was turned to him, again, in the kitchen and she was grilling him a cheese for breakfast. He blinked, confused.

“Good morning, Alistair.” She hummed, smiling at him when she looked over her shoulder and let the spatula lift the toasted bread from the pan onto a plate. She motioned for him to sit and he graciously obeyed, his belly betraying him with a gurgle that made Evelyn laugh softly.

Alistair flushed pink across the cheeks as he accepted the meal and dug in. Evelyn sat down across from him, hands wrapped around the mug of coffee she had prepared for herself earlier.

She was a mess on the inside but not because of her feelings. Those were clear now but her mind was wandering in the darker paths of their relationship and she couldn’t get her mind out of the gutter no matter what she tried.

Last night had been a nightmare on several levels.

Her body’s demands were met but with little satisfaction and she had missed a perfect opportunity to… convince Alistair to shed their reservations for another night and just… _fuck_. She couldn’t bring herself to say make love, because she didn’t know if he still really felt that way after she pushed him away.

Temptation of the flesh, however…

After she’d come out of the bath, her fingers still warm from pleasuring herself, she’d made her way to Alistair’s room. She wanted to ask, _inquire_ , about what they could or couldn’t do together to relieve this tension that was obviously plaguing both of them.

How to mention it or broach the subject had her in knots. How do you ask your best friend, whom you’d slept with twice already, how to dawdle without _feelings_ getting in the way or guilt? She had a few ideas but the scenarios all started with her fingers pointed like guns, grinning like an idiot and drawling out an _“Ayyy wanna be fuck buddies?”_

 _That_ was entirely out of the question and she had to refrain from bursting into laughter or curling up into a ball of embarrassment just at the thought and Alistair, well, she was sure _he’d_ laugh at her more than take her seriously. She was hopeless, almost desperate after last night.

It wasn’t a _question_ , it was a fact.

She had shamelessly stood outside his door for a while last night, fidgeting, contemplating about the possible ways to screw this up even more when she had heard something through his door.

She had pressed her ear against it, holding her breath. _Was he…?_

His groan had surprised her; it was loud and clear through the wooden panels. She stepped away from the door as though it burned her to the touch and she rubbed her face with both of her hands. Her imagination sparked into life against her will and her lower region almost tingled with glee. She moved quietly, pressing her ear to the door again, listening.

Alistair’s voice was hoarse, whispering something. She could hear the mattress squeaking slightly at first but as his arousal took over he lost himself, the mattress squeaked louder and faster. She could almost see it, his hand wrapped around his erection, thick and warm in his palm. The way he frowned as the pleasure called to his baser needs.

She gripped his door knob tightly, eyes wide as the groans became more and more urgent with need and he said her name in _that tone_ that made her toes curl earlier in the bath when she came, thinking of this exact scenario.

Maker’s breath! “ _Alistair!”_

She gasped, realising she had burst into his room without knocking ~~,~~ and _yelled_ at him. It was better than what she had imagined. Alistair was partially curled onto himself, chest exposed, hands under the blankets as he froze but it was too late. His eyes twitched shut as his orgasm took over and he shuddered at the pleasure, his gaze partially fixated on her.

He relaxed a few seconds after, staring at her. She could see his embarrassment even with the faint moonlight spilling through the window and he shifted. _Was he…?_ She wanted to help him clean up, _fuck_ him again to satisfy both of them but the thought of confidently walking up to him to offer him her hands set her into a panic.

“I-“ she started but the words wedged themselves in the back of her throat instead. She turned on her heels and fled the room as quickly as possible and shut the door. She leaned against it, cursing at her cowardice and thumped her head once against the wood.

She knew he heard it; his silence was almost a confirmation of their confusion on this tension filled emotional nightmare. That had been the perfect opportunity to bring it up, example _literally_ in his hands and wiped on the sheets. Instead she ran out the door, too embarrassed to even apologise for barging in.

She had to _do_ something.

So, this is how she ended up making him grilled cheese and contemplating broaching a subject that could set them back negatively.

Worst he could say was no, or _yes_. Depended on how you looked at it.

“Alistair, I-“ she bit her lip, fists tightening around the mug as he looked up from his plate, pressing toasted bread into his mouth for a bite and moaning his appreciation for her cooking skill. She giggled, relaxing almost instantaneously.

“Evelyn,” he cleared his throat, raising a hand to stop her from whatever she had to say, “I wish I had locked my door last night. I’m sorry you had to see that, uh, I’m not in the habit of _uhm_.” He swallowed when she blushed, looking back down to her mug. He felt like he was sticking his foot down his throat.

Maybe further than that. Was it possible to kick your own gut form the inside?

He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry but at the same time, _I’m not_. I mean,” He tried to focus his attention on anything but her eyes but he was unable to look away. Her blush was getting brighter and she was biting her lip again. “It was my own private room; it’s not my fault you barged in without _knocking_.”

He took another bite, feeling a bit nervous and the tension was making him shift his weight in his seat. “What did you want, anyways?” He puffed out a breath of air through his cheeks, his fingers tangling themselves in his short hair. A nervous tick she was fond of.

Evelyn laughed. The sharp sound of it startled him and he squinted his eyes suspiciously at her.

“What did I want?” She was sure the ground was going to open up and swallow her whole for even daring to think of these words; never mind saying them out loud to _Alistair_ , the man she had managed to hurt and confuse more than any other.

_You, I want you._

“What?” He choked on his bite, sputtering at her reply and Evelyn’s eyes became wide with panic. _Oh no_ , she actually _said_ the words. Out loud. _To Alistair_.

“I-I-I mean, what I _meant_ was…” she was falling apart; it had all come out wrong. Not that it was surprising mind you, considering their relationship was all ass-backwards anyways.

“Is… is that even _appropriate_ to…” the words couldn’t even come out. He was _shocked_.

Evelyn twisted her hands, biting her lower lip in thought. He was more upset than she’d originally thought. Well, she knew he may object, but he seemed downright _insulted_. She buried her hands in her face and took her courage by the horns. She made the decision to do this and _Maker willing_ , she’d go through with it.

Easier said than done, she found out immediately.

“Just hear me out-“ She pleaded with him and despite his obvious objection Alistair snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. “Please, Alistair.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms, eyes screwed shut as he leaned back against the chair and settled down. His cheeks were still tinted pink with embarrassment, which gave her a little hope. He wasn’t really extensively upset, probably just surprised.

“I was thinking, um, well – I-I-I thought…” She snapped her mouth shut; her own words almost too stubborn to come out. Why was this so difficult?

She sighed.

“You seemed to be aware of my… problem last night.” Her words felt far steadier than her thoughts, they were still shaky but not enough to notice. She raised a brow when it was Alistair’s turn to look away, almost sheepishly.

“I was… and I _am_ sorry I… _said_ that to you, it was unfair.” Alistair glanced her way; she could see the remorse there in his eyes. Her heart warmed, if not ached a little for him.

“Its fine, I mean – you’re right. I _do_ think about it and last night well… I couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it.” She bit her lower lip nervously, fingers entwined together to keep them from tapping the table. “And by the looks of things, neither could you.”

Alistair blushed, furiously. “How do you even know I was thinking about _that_?”

“You said my name.” She retorted and he sputtered in surprise at getting caught. He squinted his eyes at her suspiciously.

“I could have said… _Em…ma Lynn_.” He mumbled at her trying to save face but Evelyn gave him a withering look, blowing air between her lips to mock his answer. ”You’d only know that if you had your ear up against the door.” He retorted quickly.

“You weren’t quiet. You _never_ are.” She rolled her eyes in an attempt to seem nonchalant, hiding the truth, and this time Alistair couldn’t say anything. He was wide-eyed in shock. He buried his face into his hands and groaned miserably.

Evelyn had to laugh at that, even with the situation hanging over them his expression was adorable.

“What’s the point to all this?” He mumbled through his hands, still refusing to look at her and Evelyn felt the pang of nerves bundle up again.

“The point is, I figure if we’re both thinking of each other as we um…” She made a motion with her hand to mimic wanking when he peeked through his fingers and she smiled when he groaned. “Maybe we should just… _include_ each other in the process.”

“You mean… friends _with benefits_.”

Evelyn nodded, lips pressed together in anticipation of his answer. Alistair straightened up, blinking carefully and frowned.

“Are you sure about this? I mean…” he looked at her skeptically, this could blow back in their faces and their friendship was still mending.

“I think it might help.”

“Help? How?” Alistair laughed, a bit mystified.

“Well, we’ve already done it twice, and kissed – I mean, our relationship is all backwards anyway, so why not…?” She shrugged, hopeful he’d see the positive of it.

Alistair crossed his arms. The thought _had_ come to him once or twice… he didn’t think she’d ever even like it considering she knew his feelings and he was entirely unsure of _how_ she felt. Her constant evasion of the idea of a relationship with him left things up in the air.

 _Liked him enough to fuck, but still too unsure to commit_. Did he really want to do this to himself? He loved her.

Did that even matter?

 _Endless questions…_ He closed his eyes, frowning slightly in thought. “I need to think about this, Couscous.” He glanced at her and she nodded, her fingers still tightly gripping the mug of coffee. He sighed, reaching for his coat behind the chair before he stepped out of the kitchen.

Evelyn heard the jingle of his keys being dug out of the dish and the door quietly closed behind him as he left for work. She groaned, leaning her head against the table in misery. What had she done?

Once at work, Alistair sat in his car for several minutes, thinking about Evelyn and what she had suggested. Was he willing to do that for her? For them? It _could_ lean their relationship towards a more romantic one, eventually… but would filling her sexual needs lead to wanting him emotionally?

Was that even in the books?

He could almost feel Cullen staring at him disapprovingly, making that hum that usually meant he was about to do something incredibly dumb and would probably regret it the very moment it ended.

But this wasn’t about what _Cullen_ thought, this was about himself and _if_ he could do this. If she wanted to _fuck_ him, he’d be more than willing to let her. But he couldn’t let himself _love_ her while doing that and she remained undecided, he’d learned his lesson the first time and he’d have to tread carefully.

Maybe some ground rules....?

He nodded to his reflection in the rear-view mirror, agreeing with the idea, those would be _important_ especially if he was going to do this and keep his emotions in check. He took one last breath before opening his door and stepping out of the car to start his day, his thoughts heavily elsewhere.

By the time he got home he had a small list made up on his phone. He’d spent most of the afternoon working on it and his confidence was at an all-time _low._ His list was short but full of double entendre that were only meant for him to understand. He swallowed his nervousness and dropped his keys into the little dish by the door and made his way through the hall and into the kitchen. Evelyn was already there, waiting.

“Hi,” she piped up at him, sitting unusually straight in her chair. Her smile was as nervous as he felt and he sat across her, his gaze never leaving hers for a moment.

“Hi.”

The tension spiked between them. Evelyn twisted a piece of paper and Alistair fiddled with his phone, the list scrolling by every time he touched the screen.

“So, uh, you wanted to talk?” Evelyn led into the conversation and Alistair smiled, nodding.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about… your proposition and,” he cleared his throat, cheeks warming when he noticed her pull at her lower lip in anticipation, “and I have to say n-“ he started, holding back a grin as she visibly deflates. Evelyn closed her eyes, her disappointment apparent.

“I’d have to say yes.” He quickly added and she glared at him.

“Alistair.”

He burst into laughter, reaching out to grab her hand and squeezed her fingers with his own. Evelyn blushed, her gaze on his touch.

“I had to do it. I couldn’t resist teasing you.” He smirked when she smiled, still trying to look angry but she buried her face in her hands, laughing softly.

“You’re okay with it? For real?”

“Yes. _But_ -“ he pushed his phone towards her, “I had to set some ground rules for _us_ to follow.”

“Rules?” Evelyn raised her brows, surprised on how serious this was becoming.

“Yes, rules. I know – how strange. Me. Setting _rules_.” He winked at her, his nerves hovering under the edge of his skin as she scrolled through his list.

He watched her; she brought her thumb to her mouth and nibbled on the edge of her nail absently, lightly touching the screen of his phone with the other while she read. She was frowning.

“A time limit?”

Alistair hummed, his eyes squinting slightly. “Only until after the wedding.” He leaned forward onto his elbows, catching her glance. “We’re supposed to talk then, remember? To figure out what’s happening between us? Yes?”

She nodded skeptically, looking worried. “Right.” She went back to the short list and paused on the last item and sighed, closing her eyes.

This list was very… _protective_ but the real question was for whom? _No PDAs, no questions asked, we can’t use this as an excuse not to talk after the wedding_. But that last one…

“You want me to use a cheese wedge emoji?” she deadpanned.

“No one questions my love of cheese so if I’m somewhere and you want me home…” He grinned and she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Understood.” She put the phone down onto the table and slid it over to him and smiled, nervously. Alistair’s gaze was on her mouth but he didn’t say anything.

“So it’s agreed?” He waited for her to nod and when she did, his gut clenched with a strange emotion he couldn’t clearly identify – disappointment? Dread? Sadness? He knew this was a bad idea; he should have listened to Imaginary Cullen.

“Let’s go out, I’m starving.” He spoke the words with well-practiced good humour, stood up and Evelyn almost sighed in relief, following after him. She didn’t suspect anything was wrong with him and he’d keep it that way.

* * *

It was nearly a week after they’d agreed on this strange arrangement and nothing had happened. Maybe the ridiculousness of the idea had finally caught up to Evelyn and Alistair was nearly glad she wasn’t going to follow through. All he wanted to do was _make love_ to her, in any shape or form but he wouldn’t force the issue of their agreement if she decided to back out.

He blinked at his reflection in the bathroom, wiping the steam from the mirror and gave himself a one quick over, making sure he didn’t miss any spots while he was shaving in the shower. The water from his hair was still dripping down and he grabbed a towel to scrub his hair before leaving. He tucked another towel tightly around his hips to cover himself and walked out, rubbing his hair dry.

Evelyn wasn’t expecting him to come out of the bathroom in such a state of undress. She watched him from the couch as he dried his hair, towel over his face and she nibbled the inside of her cheek, eyes on the wide expanse of his damp skin. She blushed, warming under her bathrobe as she admired the way his skin and muscles flexed and her gaze lingered on his behind as he disappeared into his room.

She let her head fall back, sinking into the cushions and she sighed in frustration. How many drafts of cheese emoji did she have on her phone? _Too many_ to count and her indecisiveness was going to backfire. Soon he’d think she was backing out and that bothered her.

She took out her phone and pulled up his name, drafts still marked in bold red letters waiting to be sent and she closed her eyes, taping the phone against her chin. She ignored the flashes on her screen as she was still wondering what to do. Evelyn heard the texting whistle from Alistair’s room, then another, and another… She blinked, wondering who would be sending such a large amount to him… She stopped tapping the phone on her chin and gasped. She pulled the phone down into view and let go of it, covering her mouth as she tried not to scream and sunk deeper into the couch, hoping it would swallow her whole.

_Oh no._

She just….

 

Evelyn heard his door open and the subsequent footsteps followed right after. Alistair cleared his throat, his phone appearing into her line of sight as he slipped it in front of her.

“That’s a lot of cheese wedges.”

She looked up, her hands still covering her mouth and her heart swelled with warmth – Alistair was smiling softly at her, his cheeks pink with embarrassment – she noticed he was still shirtless and that the blush was making its way down to his chest. She looked away, a bit flustered.

“Should I walk around half dressed more often?” He teased and Evelyn’s hands slipped from her mouth to her eyes, trying to make this conversation disappear.

“Maker, Alistair, I-“

“Did you mean it?” He interrupted her, his weight shifted the couch cushion under her as he sat next to her. She felt her phone being lifted from her lap and the distinctive sound of two phones being laid to rest on the coffee table. She still hadn’t uncovered her eyes, her heart was beating fast at the question. Did she mean it?

“Yes.”

After a moment of stillness she felt his lips on her own in a soft, thankful kiss, his lips were pliable against her own and _warm_. She slipped her hands from her eyes and reached for his face, brushing his jaw before settling them around his cheeks, holding him there.

The kiss was chaste, at first, then she licked his lips for him to open his mouth and she slipped her tongue past his lips and sought his own. For a minute that’s all they did – kiss, reacquaint themselves with the taste of the other, eyes screwed shut in case this was going to blow up in their face.

Evelyn broke away first, eyes fluttered open as she met Alistair’s gaze and he gave her a nervous smile in return just as she shifted her position. She was now under him, awkwardly, and Alistair graciously moved, laying himself down between her legs on the couch. It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable.

She noticed he still had the towel around his hips, her hands glided down his arms as he settled and there were still a few drops of water on his skin. He kissed her again but this time it was more heated. Something snapped between them; maybe it was the days of wondering, thinking of the possibilities – maybe it was left over frustration from the other night but their kiss was heavy, sloppy against each other’s mouth.

Evelyn’s fingers dug into his arms and she heard him gasp, trailing kisses down her chin to her throat, his fingers were busy undoing the knot of her bathrobe and she flushed bright red realising she had nothing under the garment – she was waiting to go into the shower herself before this all started.

He nipped at her skin, tongue darting out to soothe the ache he caused and Evelyn took in a sharp breath when he rolled his hips and pressed his sex against hers – the towel felt strange between them. He nibbled on her collarbone and felt his tongue dip into the pulse point there. Her toes curled-in as Alistair looked up and saw her mouth agape with the sensation. He felt his heart squeeze painfully, she didn’t realise that his slow kisses held so much meaning behind them.

Alistair could feel her pulse beating fast, he could _see_ it. He tried to get his need under control, it was hard – _he_ was hard. He had thought he could just fuck her but he couldn’t – he’d always make love to her, even if she didn’t love him. It was his decision, it was his mistake. He would tell her in his actions, he’d never utter the words again unless she said them first.

He swallowed the ache in his throat and kissed her lips again, pouring himself into it and she moaned into his mouth. He managed to undo the knot of her robe and sought the warmth under it, only to find that his fingers brushed against bare skin. He grinned against her mouth, raising a brow.

“Don’t say a word,” she warned him between the sounds of their kisses – her breath was warm on his face and he slipped a leg from the couch so his foot could find purchase against the floor of the living room. His erection was noticeable now as he rubbed himself against her – the friction from the towel sent a shiver up her spine and she held her breath without realising, the pleasure pulsed teasingly.

His free hand grabbed her hip, fingers dug into the flesh and left behind half-moons from his nails and Evelyn’s voice cracked at the sensation, a staccato of moans and breaths filled his ears as he rolled his hips steadily, increasing the pressure with every languid movement. He re-positioned himself so he could kiss down her neck again, her breasts were now exposed as the bathrobe slowly slid off with every sharp thrust of his hips. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, his back curled awkwardly as he tried to keep the contact of their lower bodies together. He used his teeth and pulled back on the sensitive nub and Evelyn squeaked out his name, her legs tightening around his waist. Her hands slipped down between them and she fumbled with his towel, trying to get it off of him.

“Eager are we?” He teased but she ignored him, his mouth was warm against her skin and distracting her from what she needed. The towel finally came apart from her efforts, her heels immediately found his arse and she pushed the material off while her fingers brushed the tip of his erection.

She still couldn’t believe it; the changes in him since they first did this all those years ago.

Alistair shuddered, his steady movement interrupted by her hands feeling his shaft – he was heavy with arousal, thicker than their second night together and Evelyn hummed her appreciation. Alistair curled his hips inward, thrusting into her hands and he groaned when a spark of pleasure lit him up and she let go as he let out a strangled moan. Her fingers found his backside and she slid her feet downwards until his thigh stopped her, his foot still against the floor for support.

His length slid against her, her arousal welcoming him while he teased her clit with his shaft by grinding slower and slower. He buried his face next to her neck, his hand still gripped her hip and he listened to her. Her voice was music to his ears, each gasp of air and sound of approval encouraged him to keep going. He ignored the doubt in his mind and squeezed his eyes shut; increasing his speed but making sure his full length teased her non-stop.

Evelyn was beginning to feel desperate, she wanted him inside of her, she wanted him to fill her but the way he teased her was almost too much – her pleasure was steadily mounting, always on the verge of breaking but he was going so slow she couldn’t break the tension to fall into bliss. She tried moving her hips but he would stop her with his hand on her keeping her still so she couldn’t move, so that she couldn’t find good purchase on his rear with her heels to press against him harder. Unable to find her voice with her mind in a daze of pleasure she squirmed under him instead, moaning, breathing hard and calling his name.

Her unspoken requests to hurry didn’t faze him. Alistair’s hips held steady and his fingers dug deeply into her skin to keep his barely there control in check. His breathing turned from pants to moans that border-lined a whine. Her hands gripped what she could – the arm of the couch, his shoulders and she scratched down his back in retaliation when her orgasm wasn’t allowed to come to fruition. Alistair responded by going slow, slower, and faster when he was sure she was going to yell at him to stop being a tease. The pressure rarely changed, like he knew just how to string her along and Evelyn whined, _moaned_. He almost caved to her demands when his name cracked on her lips as she tried to move, tried to come.

“Ah Alistair, I’m _going to_ … need to-“ The string wouldn’t snap, she was desperate for relief and Alistair grunted, his lips covering hers in a kiss that made her melt into him. His own movement suddenly became erratic and finally, to her relief, he pulled back his hips and the head of his erection found her slit wet, slick with need. Her entrance kissed him eagerly and he slid into her, filling her.

Evelyn gasped, her undoing finally allowed and she came around him. She couldn’t even make a sound as the pleasure took over her body in harsh waves, her walls clenching down on him, unforgiving for the slow torture. Alistair released her hips to slip his arms under her, pulling her closer to him. He quickly moved in and out of her, his own release sparking and he grunted, rutting hard as he finally let himself come into Evelyn.

He collapsed on top of her, still twitching with the pleasure as he tried to catch his breath. His ear was pressed against Evelyn and her heart beat told him she was certainly satisfied. He sat up, wiping at the sweat on his brow and looked at her; she was flushed bright pink, sweat on her skin and a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Was that alright?” He asked, grinning when she nodded lazily, panting her breaths. He gently pulled himself out of her and leaned forward, kissing her softly, thanking her quietly with it. Before she could react, he got up from the couch, picking up his towel from the floor and his phone from the table as he left for his room to finish getting ready for work.

Evelyn frowned, unsure of what just happened, her daze not allowing her to complain about his departure. She pulled the robe around herself and pressed her hands against her chest – she felt… happy, but not satisfied and she couldn’t quite figure out why.

Alistair leaned against his closed door. His breath was finally under control but his heart felt heavy with an ache he was growing accustom to and slid down to sit on the floor. He had to get himself in check, his emotions bubbled and his eyes stung.

He wasn’t her lover, they were friends with benefits, and he had no right to feel this way – he had to ignore the urge to cuddle her, to kiss her more, ignore the words _I love you_ that burned on his lips and tore at his throat.

He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his knees when he pulled them up against his chest. He blinked hard to clear the doubts. He wasn’t going to fall apart now, he’d agreed to this and now, he’d swallow the consequences.


End file.
